


Matches And Gasoline

by FunkyinFishnet



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Brain Damage, F/F, Friendship, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, Male-Female Friendship, Relationship(s), Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 10:18:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3205649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobbi speaks to Fitz about Jemma, Hunter and work. Fitz finds her soothing; Hunter is put on edge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matches And Gasoline

 

 

Fitz didn’t notice her at first. He was hunched close to his computer, his fingers crooked as he tried to grasp the realisation that he could feel ghosting at the edge of his thoughts. He definitely recognised the piece of equipment currently being displayed on his computer screen, he knew it, he just didn’t know where from. And it was important.

 

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that until he finally stretched, feeling his joints pop. He was annoyed and frustrated and then noticed that he wasn’t actually alone anymore in his corner of the lab. Bobbi Morse, code name Mockingbird and Jemma’s new best friend who possessed intimidating poise and strength, was stood watching Fitz. His heart thundered; Ward had had that kind of presence.

 

Fitz looked at her and she looked back.

 

A horrible thought coalesced. “Is it Jemma?”

 

Bobbi shook her head. “She’s fine, training.”

 

Right because now that Jemma had spent time out in the field she was getting lots of sparring lessons. When she trained with Bobbi, Jemma always looked like she was actually managing to enjoy herself. She was a different Jemma now. She wasn’t who Fitz had been relying on during her absence, the hallucination, the Jemma that he remembered, the person she’d been before Ward had nearly killed them.

 

Fitz’s breathing was sharp and he leaned heavily against his desk, trying not to remember that moment, how much everything had hurt, how sure he’d been that that was it, how...He was on solid ground, he was alive, Jemma was alive, Ward was alive.

 

Bobbi was still watching him. She didn’t come any closer, she didn’t crowd him, but she did look concerned.

 

“Want me to get Lance?”

 

Fitz shook his head, managing to grab a water bottle and drain it without spilling much. Hunter was meeting with Trip and Coulson, and Fitz didn’t want to...he didn’t want to be a problem. He stared at the empty bottle, Hunter didn’t...Hunter touched him and didn’t look pitying; he kissed Fitz and sounded and felt like he was enjoying himself. Hunter described himself as appropriately selfish, because he only went for what he wanted. He never filtered his words.

 

Fitz relaxed a little, thinking about Hunter, how they’d woken up together that morning, the physical release that Hunter had conjured up, his hands confident and teasing and exactly what Fitz had needed. It was a weakness but it was better than some.

 

Bobbi was still there. She was there and she was Hunter’s ex-wife. Fitz’s gaze returned to his computer screen and then back again, he shifted slightly on his feet.

 

“What is it?”

 

Bobbi didn’t look offended by his tone. She leaned against a nearby counter, still somehow managing to give him his space. Her gaze was assessing and Fitz wasn’t sure if he liked it. It reminded him of May; which helped.

 

“I thought we should talk,” Bobbi said at last.

 

“Because of Hunter?”

 

“Because of Jemma,” Bobbi relented a moment later with a conspiratorial smile. “And Lance.”

 

Fitz should have been tense – the ex-wife of the person he was sleeping with wanted to talk to him. But Jemma spoke highly of Bobbi and not just because of how efficiently Bobbi had extracted her from HYDRA. Fitz would have been nervous and awkwardly babbling once but Bobbi was a professional and so was Fitz and now there were much worse things to fear.

 

“Thank you, for Jemma.”

 

Bobbi smiled slightly and accepted his gratitude, not pretending that she hadn’t literally saved the day. “Thank you, for Lance.”

 

Fitz frowned. “For what?”

 

Bobbi’s expression gentled. “I know he tells stories about me. I’ve got a lot about him, they’re probably very similar.”

 

Hunter’s stories about Bobbi were all insulting and often mean. Oh. Their marriage sounded like hazardous material.

 

“Your marriage sounds like hazardous material.”

 

Bobbi laughed. “It was exciting but after a while, all we did was fight. One of us was matches and the other was gasoline.”

 

A lot of heat but also destruction and everything burning away. That was vivid. Fitz nodded, it made sense.

 

“It doesn’t seem that way with you.”

 

“Well, there is...” Fitz paused, trying to straighten his thoughts, to grasp for what he meant. He eyed Bobbi; she knew more about Hunter than anybody else. “It’s good.”

 

Bobbi nodded with a slow warm smile. She did look better as a blonde. She sauntered a little closer, she didn’t seem like a hellbeast or any of the other things that Hunter had routinely categorised her as for weeks on end. But then Jemma had once known exactly what to say, always helping Fitz work to the best of his ability. She'd recently said that he was remembering things the way that he wanted to.

 

“Jemma’s good too,” Bobbi was saying and of course Jemma was though why was Bobbi saying that with a look that Fitz thought might be leading or significant or both.

 

Bobbi had said it as though it was an obvious segway, like there was a link between Fitz and Hunter and Bobbi and Jemma and oh. Oh. Bobbi and Jemma. Fitz blinked and silently considered the pair of them; that explained Jemma’s recent behaviour and a few of Hunter’s comments. Jemma had always had a very definite type before; something else that’d markedly changed. Fitz was silent for a while, connecting events that'd occurred since Jemma's return with Jemma's more frequent smiles, her relaxed poise and the amount of time that she'd been spending with Bobbi.

 

Should he have been more surprised? Maybe. He didn't know, didn't want to know. After everything – Ward's betrayal and...and ...everything else, Coulson being affected by the alien substance, Jemma, just Jemma – maybe Fitz had run out of surprise. Maybe that was the point. He could feel something though, something strong.

 

“Good,” he said at last.

 

“I think so.”

 

Bobbi was smiling again and Fitz felt compelled to add a little bit more. “She’ll stay that way.”

 

It wasn’t a question, it was a promise that he wanted Bobbie to make. Bobbi didn’t laugh, she just nodded, like she wanted Jemma to always be happy too. Good, that was good. The silence was sort of companionable after that, like it sometimes was with Mack. Some of the other SHIELD scientists were watching them, like they were expecting something else. Fitz had work to do and Bobbi was now looking intently at her tablet. Fitz inched closer to his screen; there was something about the way that circuit was put together...

 

“Anderson,” he said suddenly.

 

Bobbi looked up. “Anderson?”

 

“This, it’s um...” Fitz’s hands gestured and gesticulated, trying to form the words that his mouth couldn't parse. “It’s not new.”

 

Bobbi stood up straighter and came close enough to read what was on Fitz’s screen. “It’s his, his design.”

 

“Different, very different. But Carl, Carlos Anderson.”

 

Fitz felt and sounded relieved. Bobbi darted a quick smile his way as she worked on her tablet. Apparently she knew why the design was important and why Fitz had been working on it because she didn’t ask any questions. She was very competent, like May, like Ward. Not like Ward. Not at all.

 

“Jemma and Mack told me you do good work,” Bobbi said.

 

That was unnecessary of them and sort of bitterly warming because Fitz had once done good work. Now he was as slow as the next person. Bobbi looked at him for a moment before continuing.

 

“Nobody else caught Anderson’s signature.”

 

Well, yes, there was that. Bobbi’s smile became amused and then Hunter appeared as if from out of nowhere, cutting through the lab's other scientists. He looked taken aback by Bobbi’s presence. Fitz looked at him, he’d found that looking at Hunter could be very satisfying, a feeling that he always wanted more of. It’d been hours since they’d last kissed, a fact that Fitz was very aware of as he wet his lips absently.

 

“What’s going on?” Hunter wanted to know, positioning himself beside Fitz, his hand palming the small of Fitz’s back.

 

Fitz leaning into his touch and then away again so that Hunter’s hand became an almost imperceptible presence but one that he still knew was there. Bobbi’s amusement grew and she gave Fitz a look that could have been an invitation or it could have meant something else.

 

“Fitz’s doing good work, I’m just admiring it,” was Bobbi’s interpretation of their interaction.

 

Hunter looked from one to the other. “Yeah and the rest.”

 

Bobbi cocked an eyebrow. “Paranoia, that’s healthy, very progressive.”

 

“It’s kept me alive.”

 

“Mmm. Thanks for this, Fitz. Let me know if anything else speaks to you,” Bobbi smiled as she headed towards the door, casting a last look back. “Matches.”

 

“Gasoline,” Fitz rejoined instinctively and almost promptly.

 

Bobbi smirked and left the lab, Hunter immediately turned to Fitz. “Nicknames are not a good sign with her, love. That’s how it all starts.”

 

Fitz thought about Bobbi’s amusement and how her expression had reshaped when she’d talked about Jemma. Jemma should have someone who thought about her like that. There'd been Fitz and now there was someone else too. That was good. Bobbi had enjoyed teasing Hunter as well. Fitz rolled his thoughts around that, his eyes focusing on his computer screen. Some words haltingly emerged.

 

“I found her very soothing.”

 

“Soothing?!”

 

Fitz’s mouth briefly flickered upwards, he pulled up another of Anderson’s designs which could shed light on the man's apparently evolving thought processes. Hunter’s touch firmed up at Fitz’s back, Fitz soaked in his warmth, mentally collating what kept his thoughts and words close to secure, solid and his; Mack and his motors, Jemma, Bobbi (Jemma would be safe with her, she had been already), Coulson and May and Skye and Trip. Fitz’s hands moved as he listened to Hunter’s mutterings. Combined with Hunter's touch, they made every difference. Fitz's feet felt firmly planted, everything else tried hard to follow.

 

_-the end_


End file.
